A New Kind Of Storm
by VomitUpYourSoul
Summary: "With the first falling raindrops had come a sensation in his stomach, familiar and uncomfortable. Twig pulled at the collar of his robes, which suddenly felt heavy and sweltering…" TwigXCowlquape; BoyXBoy; OneShot; SLASH  3


The stove blazed, its crackling purple flames dousing the study in a soft glow. The significant warmth it gave off quelled the chill setting in as heavy dark storm clouds began to gather outside the window, quickly blotting the light from the sky. Twig laid a hand to the cold glass of the window with a deep sigh. Somewhere far beyond the clouds, sky pirate ships were sailing, free as birds, off to explore every corner of the Edge…

He snorted in frustration. This blasted study would surely choke him to death one day. Pressing a palm to his forehead, oddly damp despite the chill leeching in from outside, he returned to his desk and the stacks of meaningless work there assigned by the Professor of Darkness. Nearly the entirety of it was for show. As the Sub-Professor of Light, Twig was technically supposed to be working on _something, _although the content and quality of that something was virtually meaningless. He turned to face the window again, watching as the first few drops of the storm spattered the glass. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling increasingly and unpleasantly hot. With the first falling raindrops had come a sensation in his stomach, familiar and uncomfortable. Twig pulled at the collar of his robes, which suddenly felt heavy and sweltering…

'P-Pro-fes-sor,' stuttered a voice behind him.

The captain sighed, turning to face his young apprentice. 'Cowlquape, how many times must I tell you to call me Tw—" He was shocked into silence by the sight of the boy before him.

Cowlquape was tugging restlessly at the neck of the deep crimson robe draped about him, his body agitated and fidgety. His face was flushed a hot red color, brow knit anxiously in the center, head lowered in humiliation, eyes looking intensely up from under his lashes. His breath came in quick, heavy gasps.

Twig's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously, pressing back unthinkable desires the sight of his fervent apprentice had stirred. 'Yes, Cowlquape?' He said the words slowly, pressing each one, as if to monitor what left his lips and what remained in his head. The lustful, eager expression on the boy's face intensified, his antsy shifting becoming more rapid and pronounced.

'I w-want you, P-Professor,' he sputtered. 'I w-want you _T-T-Twig…_w-with all of my b-being…'

Twig's jaw dropped. His heartbeat quickened, breath catching in his throat. 'E-ex_cuse _me?' he stammered.

'I…want…_all…of…you_,' panted Cowlquape, the robe slipping from one shoulder to reveal the smooth, pale skin of his chest. 'I…want…you…_now…_Twig...'

The young captain became acutely aware of the heat under his own skin and the increasing uncomfortable tightness developing in his pants. Although his mind was sharply conscious of the fact that Cowlquape was younger than he was by several years, his trusting apprentice no less, his more…well…_masculine _parts were beginning to disregard these ideas as being irrelevant to current _needs_. But his will was stronger than his desire…to a point. 'Cowl...quape,' he started, pausing frequently so as not to let his voice break, 'you are my…my apprentice, you are…my…friend, and you are…far…to…' Twig halted his struggled attempt at morality when the second arm of the robe slipped down away from Cowlquape's shoulder, now no more than a drape hanging conveniently around his waist. His apprentice's pleading, seductive eyes fluttered, remaining trained on Twig's astonished face.

He took a step towards his apprentice, a hand rising from his side. 'I couldn't…_possibly…_pervert something…so…young…and…pure…' but he was already standing before the boy, whose hungry eyes gazed up at him, glazed with lust, expectant, waiting, begging. He was already reaching forward to touch his luscious skin, already leaning forward to taste his rosy lips, already…

'_Uuung…' _Cowlquape released a keen whimper as Twig leaned forward and began to kiss him heatedly, his hands drawing his near naked young apprentice to his body, the heat under his skin rising to boil with their passionate embrace. He kissed Cowlquape with a rough, uncontrollable fever, parting his lips and massaging his tongue, gripping the soft small of his back in his fingertips, bowing him over backwards. Twig's lips broke away only to drop to the soft flesh of his neck, desperate and coarse. Cowlquape moaned richly as the blood vessels under the skin broke in place after place, sending wonderful chills up his spine and sharp electric currents through his body. Licked and bitten, caressed and stroked, bent so far backwards it would put acrobats to shame, Cowlquape could bare it no longer.

'_Twig...!' _Cowlquape gasped. He was unsure what he was asking for, aware only that he wanted it. Scorching his veins as though he were being cooked alive, the fever raged endlessly. He wanted it. He _needed _it. It didn't matter what _it _was. He just needed it, needed it now.

Jostled fervently from his lustful fog, he was yanked into the lap of his mentor, who had fallen back into the thick red chair behind his desk. Twig impatiently stripped the robe away from Cowlquape's waist, barely pausing to take in his bare body before lunging forward and rolling a small pinkish nipple with his tongue. Cowlquape twitched weakly, his eyes drifting closed. Quiet gasps escaped him, becoming louder and deeper the lower down Twig's lips traveled on his apprentice's stomach.

'W-wait, Twig,' Cowlquape murmured breathlessly, pressing back Twig's shoulders. 'You, too…' he reached down and with both hands struggled with the button on the front of his mentor's pants. Twig's breath hitched as Cowlquape shimmied them off, tossing them across the room. He chuckled warmly and tossed away the drapes of his robes, now completely naked.

Cowlquape let out a sudden squeak of surprise as he felt something new throb in his stomach. Twig's hand had seized his untouched erection, stroking gently.

'_AaaAaahnn…!_' The younger boy threw back his head, delicious, throaty moans spilling unrestrained from his lips. No one had ever touched him that way before—not even himself. The children of the Leagesmen were as sheltered as they came, expected to remain ignorant until married. But _Sky Above_, the sensations that racked his body were _irresistible..._

Cowlquape reached forward and took hold of Twig's own erection, feeling his body tense and then shiver. He mimicked his mentor's movements, pressing forward, rocking his hips, mindless sounds of pleasure streaming endlessly from his mouth.

'Cowlquape…' moaned Twig. 'This is gu-going to hu-hurt at first o-okay?'

Cowlquape looked down at the older boy in cluttered confusion, but nodded slightly, winding both arms around Twig's neck. 'So…long…as…you're…gentle,' he panted. Cowlquape leaned forward and nipped Twig's earlobe, making him inhale sharply. Then his face was being pulled sideways, colliding roughly with the older boy's lips, he found himself caught in another heated, open-mouthed kiss. Cowlquape pressed into the kiss, delving as deep as he could. Twig pulled half away and, without warning, bit harshly down on his apprentice's lip. Cowlquape gasped severely, tasting blood in his mouth. On the edge of his focus another strange sensation was overwhelming his body, but it wasn't until Twig broke completely away that he felt the pain on the other end of his body, burning as it was invaded by fingers.

'Nnnaah…' Cowlquape shut his eyes, his brow knitting. Watching the alluring face of his apprentice, Twig pressed the two fingers farther into Cowlquape's body, making his squirm. His moans, now laced with pain, filled the room again.

Twig leaned forward to whisper breathlessly, 'Are you…alright…Cowl…quape?" Although his eyes remained closed, the younger boy nodded again with vigor. 'Aah…haa…m…ore…!' he puffed, leaning back against Twig's hand now. Once the pain had begun to recede, he reveled in the deep waves of pleasure that rocked through him with every movement. The fingers withdrew, and Cowlquape's eyes fluttered.

Twig grasped the younger boy's hips in his rough hands, lifting him off his lap for a moment. 'This will hurt,' he murmured, 'be prepared.' Cowlquape nodded eagerly again. Anything, just restore the pleasure, just let the waves up his spine continue…

Twig positioned himself under his apprentice and, trembling with anticipation, thrust upwards.

Cowlquape cried out in pain, his lower body screaming protest. The horrible searing was almost too much to bear. He could _feel _Twig inside him, all the way inside him...like he was going to be torn apart from the inside. '…hur…ts…' he whimpered. His erection throbbed, burning for some sort of pleasure, compensation for the pain.

Twig had already accoutered for this and at once was kissing him again, sucking and swirling and nipping at his lips, exciting every nerve he could. Cowlquape shuddered as his body battled with the hurt and the ecstasy. Finally the pain was overcome when Twig's large hand began avidly stroking his erection, causing the younger boy to moan intensely into the kiss. Twig rocked his hips, slowly at first, then thrusting passionately into his apprentice, basking in the gloriousness of his body. Cowlquape's sounds of pleasure increased in volume until he was practically screaming. Twig's frantic thrusts drove deep into him, the waves of euphoria devastating his body again, more prominent than ever. Twig leaned forward, nipping and licking at a sensitive nipple. Cowlquape's cries reached their crowning volume. 'T-Twig…!' he panted, 'I can't…feels so good…!' The strokes of Twig's textured hand, in time with the powerful thrusts, steadily increased with speed until Cowlquape could feel the relentless fever, the waves of rapture, and the tension in his muscles all concentrate in the pit of his stomach, so intense that part of him was terrified he was going to vomit. But he did not—instead, the desperate pleasure reached its highest peak, to the point where his entire body was crying out, every nerve on fire. As the raging torrent crested and broke Cowlquape could feel his body overfill and burst, and he came onto his stomach with a desperate cry of Twig's name.

Cowlquape awoke in the early morning feeling sticky and sore. His nose twitched, eyes fluttered, but he was comfortable and warm and not at all inclined to waking up. Then it struck him that he was surrounded by something warm, although he didn't remember going to bed the previous night. In fact, he didn't remember much of anything, really, except reading barkscrolls in his hammock, and then going for a bath, and then that odd storm passing through, and then…

He sat bolt upright, his face a vibrant shade of red. He glanced frantically around the room, at his robe lying strewn on the floor, Twig's robes lying discarded against the wall, his red desk chair tipper over on the floor… Cowlquape leapt at a small groan behind him, turning in terror to see his professor, his mentor, lying beside him. Naked. Cowlquape put a hand on his bare stomach and felt the stickiness there and felt as though he swallowed a rock.

'How could I have done such a shameful thing?' he gasped at himself. 'Cowlquape, what in the name of _Earth and Sky _came over you!' he hung his head in his hands, attempting desperately to catch his breath, recounting the events of the night in horror. To seduce an older man? As if the act of se—_sex_ wasn't enough on its own regard, but with a _man? _With his _Professor? _ And so m-m-many times, in so many d-d-d-different ways and—No! Cowlquape slapped his own face several times, smarting his early morning mind. Twig…Twig did not…Twig had consented, hadn't he? Agreed, guided him through it, made him co—

'Cowlquape?' muttered a voice behind him, 'Cowlquape, you're awake.'

The apprentice froze, overwhelmed by shameful, unthinkable thoughts. He shook them violently away, praying for the redness to fade from his cheeks. 'I-I'm awake,' he mumbled meekly.

'Do you remember what happened last night?' he asked groggily. 'I can't seem to…' when Twig sat up, looking around at the state of the room, his disheveled and blushing young apprentice, felt the familiar soreness in his lower back and shoulders and jaw that occurred only after a rough night of— 'Oh,' said Twig, blinking in astonishment, 'oh, Sky Above, that's right.'

Cowlquape ducked his head in shame, covering his face with his hands.

'I-I'm so sorry, Professor! I honestly have no idea what came over me, I—'

Cowlquape was interrupted by a rough banging on the door. 'Twig!' someone outside was shouting, 'Twig! Open the door!'

Twig rose from the lounge couch the two had evidently fallen asleep on and lifting Cowlquape's red satin robe from the floor, wrapping himself in the crimson cloth. 'Best try to cover up, Cowlquape,' he said with a chuckle. The young apprentice scrambled around the floor, covering himself with Twig's robes, now dirtied with…Cowlquape didn't really want to think about what they were dirtied with.

Twig pulled open the door, where the Professor of Darkness was looking exasperated.

'Finally!' he muttered, inviting himself in, talking excitedly to Twig as he did so. 'Did you witness the storm last night, Twig? It was absolutely fascinating! I was in my study all night, but I was told by the Professor of Psycho-Climactic Studies that it inspired intense desire and caused all sorts of madness barely even mentionable!—at the moment they're referring to it as a Heat Storm, which I personally find a little childish, but…' the Professor of Darkness trailed off, seeming to notice for the first time the state that the room and its inhabitants were in. From Twig's robe to tousled hair, the room's tipped furniture and dirtied couches, the strewn-about clothing and of course, Cowlquape, attempting to look less naked by covering himself with Twig's robes. The Professor's eyes widened, and he chuckled. 'I suppose you two experienced the brunt of the storm, or so it would seem…' his eyes twinkled with laughter. 'That's a smidgen awkward. I'm sorry about the barge-in, Cowlquape, my boy. Didn't mean to stumble upon your, erm, "personal matters."'

Cowlquape flushed red, pulling Twig's robes tighter against him.

'Anyway, lads, I suppose I'll be off, since I seem to have arrived at a difficult time. If either of you would be so kind as to come by later and explain to me the effects that this storm had on you personally, science would be grateful. Assuming it's not too uncomfortable. No pressure there.' The Professor withdrew out the door to the study. 'If you need any, er, laundry done, the gnokgoblin down the alley will give you a fair price for your…messes.' The Professor slapped Twig once on the back before waving goodbye and shutting the door.

Twig turned to face Cowlquape, pinching the bridge of his nose, a slight redness accumulated in his cheeks as well. '...Well, that does explain a lot,' muttered Twig dryly. Cowlquape felt the shame burn doubly under his cheeks and stood to recede to his bunk room to change and perhaps hole up in it until he felt able of showing his face before his Professor again. As he turned to leave, Twig caught his arm.

'Cowlquape, hold on,' he said softly. Cowlquape braced himself for a warning or a rebuke, some sort of hateful or disgusted request to not stay in the same room for a while. What he got, however, was a very different statement.

'Just…just because our relations last night were the result of a lust-inducing mind storm doesn't mean it wasn't still wonderful. Doesn't mean it wasn't still your virginity.'

Cowlquape felt his redness spread up to his ears. Would he never stop blushing today?

'…it…it was,' he said timidly, 'my first time.' His head ducked in humiliation. 'And it was w-w-wonderful.'

Twig's face relaxed and he smiled. 'In that case,' he said with a suggestive lift of an eyebrow, 'should you ever approach me in such a way again…know that I'd not likely turn down such an alluring offer.' He winked. 'and should you ever feel so inclined…know that I'd gladly repeat our actions again. And again.'


End file.
